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Authors: Diane Greenwood Muir

Room at the Inn (Bellingwood #5.5) (7 page)

BOOK: Room at the Inn (Bellingwood #5.5)
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"See. You get it," Lydia laughed. "My kids and Aaron finally figured out that if they pay attention to what I'm saying, it will be the easiest way to do something."

"What you’re telling me is that I'll get
my answers on Tuesday."

"That's exactly right, dear! And you'll meet people and get a good lunch."

Andrew and Jason showed up after Lydia left that afternoon, since their mother was in the kitchen. Both boys were carrying a small bag and when Polly asked what they had, Andrew proudly pulled out a brown robe.

"Mrs. Randall had a bunch of old costumes that Doug wore and she let us have them.
We’re going to be donkey herders!"

"You are! That's wonderful," Polly said. "Which donkey are you going to herd?"

"Tom likes me better, so I'm going to hold his leash."

"His lead, you're going to hold his lead," Jason scolded.

"Whatever. Just because you ride horses, you think you know everything."

Jason walked into the kitchen mumbling, "I know
that
, runt." Then he spoke a little louder. "Can I get something to drink?"

"Sure. There's juice and milk and cold water in there."

"Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm good," she said, watching Andrew play with the two cats. Obiwan lay on the floor beside them, doing his best to ignore the activity.

Andrew jumped up, "Should I take Obiwan out for a walk?"

"You can any time you want to. He always likes going outside with you." Andrew bolted for the back stairs and called Obiwan to follow him.

"He's weird," Jason muttered and sat down on the couch with a glass of milk.

"He's your brother," she laughed.

"Polly?"

"Yes, Jason?" Polly had her back to him as she walked into the kitchen. His glass of mil
k had given her a craving for a cookie. There was still at least one more container in the freezer.

"Now that I'm thirteen, I want to make sure Mom has something nice for Christmas. Not some little kid gift that we make at school, but something important."

Polly spun around. He was staring into his glass.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I don't know," he said. "That's why I'm talking to you."

She refilled her coffee mug and took it and the cookies back to the living room, then sat down beside him. "Do you want to get her perfume or something for the house? What kind of money do you want to spend?"

"I've saved twenty dollars and Andrew gave me ten dollars. We want this to be special."

Then it hit Polly, "Why don't I meet you downtown tomorrow after school. I saw some jewelry at the Antique Shoppe and I bet you could find something that would be perfect for her."

He dug around in his pockets and handed her a wad of cash. "Would you keep this? I don't want to take it to school and lose it. It's the whole thing."

"I'll be glad to hold it for you.
"

"Thank you. Mom always makes sure we have a good Christmas, but I've never been able to put a present under the tree for her. Starting this year that changes," he declared. "It's about time she had something nice."

He put his empty glass down on the coffee table with a flourish and Polly held herself back from hugging him. The little boy who still had traces of a milk moustache was doing all he could to grow up and be a man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Unless the world ended, Polly
needed to leave soon. She wasn't sure why she dreaded going to this meeting, but the thought of it sent shivers down her back. Lydia told her to be there at ten forty-five. Polly's presentation would be just before lunch.

She’
d met Jason and Andrew at the Antique Shoppe yesterday afternoon. Before they arrived, she had a conversation with the owner, Simon Gardner, about the dresser. He told her that it had been in the store for at least five years and thought maybe it had come from an estate auction.

The boys
had entered the store with wide eyes. Jason was on a mission to buy a necklace for his mother, while Andrew's idea of the perfect gift was an immense, gaudy, blue glass vase. Polly led them to the jewelry counter, where Simon patiently set out pieces for them to hold. Jason's eyes lit up over a lapis and rhinestone necklace with matching earrings, but was crushed to see it marked at fifty dollars. He pushed it aside until Simon stopped him.

"Young man," the man had said. "This is the Antique Shoppe. You make me an offer. None of these prices are set in stone."

Jason had looked up at Polly. She bent over and whispered, "Don't offer him all you have. Start low. Let him meet you."

Th
e boy stood a little straighter, looked at Simon in the eyes and said, "I can give you twenty dollars."

Simon clutched his heart, "You're killing me. I can't go that low! I'll sell them to you for forty dollars."

Jason looked at Polly again and she pointed her finger up and he said, "Maybe twenty-five dollars for the set."

"No," Simon said. "You'd take out all my profit. I need to make a little bit of money. It's Christmas!"

One more glance at Polly and she winked at him. Jason stood a little taller and said. "The very highest I can go is thirty dollars and that has to include sales tax, because that's all I've got."

The man sighed as dramatically as he could and after exhaling loudly, said, "For someone who didn't know how to make a bargain, you did very well, young man. This is quite a deal you've made. I hope that it makes a wonderful gift for someone special."

Andrew's eyes were as big as saucers. He'd watched the entire transaction take place with his mouth open. "It's for our mom. This is the first time we've ever bought a present for her. We work at Sycamore House and Polly pays us to take care of her animals."

"Your mother must be pretty special to have
sons who are willing to spend thirty dollars on her. Let me get two nice boxes for these. Do you want me to wrap them?"

Jason shook his head, "No thank you. We will do that."

"I'll be right back," Leaving the jewelry on the counter, Simon walked toward the back of the store.

"I was
so nervous," Jason said. "I didn't know I could do that."

"You can always bargain in a place like this. It doesn't work in regular stores, but when it comes to antiques, most shop owners are willing to strike a deal. Mr. Gardner must have been ready to sell that jewelry today. You did very well."

"Do you have the money?" he asked.

Polly
handed him the cash. When Simon Gardner returned, he wrote out a receipt for the transaction, boxed up the jewelry into two plain white jewelry boxes, and placed them in a bag.

"Thank you, boys. Stop in again to take a look at our toys. I'm always willing to negotiate!" he had said as they left the store.

When they returned to Sycamore House, the boys had taken the necklace and earrings in and out of the boxes several more times. They'd stayed through supper and late into the evening since Sylvie was cooking for another holiday party. Both boys helped in the barn with evening chores. The donkeys were happy to see their new friends and Eliseo continued to teach Andrew how to lead Tom. Polly had been glad to finally see them go home though, ready to simply sit on her sofa and read a book.

Now, she sat at her desk, watching the clock. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer, grabbed her keys and cut through the kitchen for the garage. She was just going to sit in the background
until she had to talk. Her heart felt like it was crawling into her throat as she pulled in. Without giving it much more thought, she made sure she had the package and walked across the parking lot.

They were meeting in the basement of the church and she was greeted by noise and background Christmas music.
She found a chair at an empty table and quickly sat down.

"Now it is time for our poinsettia giveaway," the woman standing at the front of the room said. "
Each person should take a slip of paper with a number on it from the bowl at your table."

Rustling
was heard around the room as the bowls were passed.

"All of the numbers should be
taken. If you don't have eight people at your table, someone will have to take two." She waited while the ladies at the tables sorted themselves out. "I am going to choose a number between one and eight and that person will take home the poinsettia from their table. Are you ready?"

The women each held up their numbers and waited. "It's number four! If you have the number four, then you get to take the poinsettia with you when you leave. You can thank the Men's Club for their gift to our party today."

"We aren't finished yet," she continued. "There are other door prizes. The first is a beautiful nativity scene, hand painted by Amber Grossman. Have you finished your Christmas shopping?"

There was muttering and laughter around the room. "If you are buying presents for at least three children under the age of eighteen, stand up." Nearly everyone in the room stood. "Now, if you are buying for at least five children under the age of eighteen, stay standing, the rest can be seated." Many were still standing and as she increased the number of children, more people sat down until the woman who was purchasing gifts for twenty-three children under that age was standing and blushing.

"Lily Biggerstaff, you have a lot of grandchildren in your life. Congratulations! You deserve this nativity set."

"It might end up being one of the
gifts," the woman laughed.

"We
usually have a door prize for the oldest and the youngest person in attendance, but last year I got into trouble for embarrassing our ladies about their age," the emcee announced.

A few women grumbled, "I'm proud of how old I am," someone said, while
others quietly clapped.

"So rather than have you admit
your age, I am going to present this gift," she held up a wrapped package, "to the youngest guest with us today, Miss Laney Griffith, who is here with her grandmother. Since her grandmother brought the little cherub, she will receive the adult gift." She waited while the packages were handed to the winners and then said, "Now, Lydia Merritt has asked for a few moments. When she spoke with me about this, I heartily agreed. I think you'll like the end to today's program. Lydia?" She stepped aside as Lydia came forward.

"Good morning, ladies!" Lydia said,
and the entire room loudly responded, "Good morning, Lydia!"

She smiled at them and began. "
I've asked Polly Giller to join us. She has a little mystery and I told her that you might be able to help her solve it. You will love the story and if you can, you will want to help. Polly, could you come up here?"

As Polly walked toward the front, Lydia said, "I think you all know who Polly is. She purchased the old schoolhouse
last year and has transformed that corner of Bellingwood into something beautiful. Many of you helped with the garden this summer and others of you have enjoyed receptions with your daughters and granddaughters in Sycamore House's auditorium. We're glad you've joined us, Polly." Lydia said and began to clap. The women joined her while Polly stood there feeling terribly embarrassed.

"I'm not sure how to begin," Polly said. "I purchased an old dresser at the Antique Shoppe
and discovered a package stuck to the inside top of the dresser. In that package was an old Christmas card, some photographs and a letter. I'd like to pass the card and the photographs around while I read the letter to you."

She handed the pictures and card to Lydia, who passed them to several tables in front. The women looked at the photographs while Polly read the letter out loud to them.

"My dear Marian Jeanine,"
she began and when she finished, her voice cracked with emotion. Most of the women watched her while others peered at the photographs before passing them on.

"The nurse's name was Beatrice Hogan, but I don't know
anything about little Marian Jeanine. I'd love to get these pictures and her mother’s final letter to her, but I need help."

Lydia stepped up beside her. "I told her that many of you might remember
this. We figure it has to have been in the mid to late nineteen fifties. The mother was a war bride and the brothers were several years older. What terrible accident happened that killed a family, leaving the baby alive with only a few mementos?"

Several of the older women got up and moved to other tables, talking among themselves. Soon, one of them spoke up.

"They weren't from Bellingwood. This happened over around Pilot Mound."

Another joined in, "It was in all the papers.
It was nineteen fifty-six. I remember because my Amy was three years old, too. The same age as the little girl. Their house exploded. I don't remember the details. But, the little girl was still in the car when it happened. It was at Christmas. They had just gotten home from the store and were unloading groceries. The poor boys were both in the house. The father was at the door and the mother hadn't quite gotten there. If she had been carrying the girl instead of groceries, all of them would be gone."

"But what happened to the little girl?" another woman asked.

"What was their name?" Lydia asked.

A woman that Polly knew quite well, Adele Mansfield, spoke up. "It was Detweiler. Norman and Julie Detweiler."

"How did you remember that?" one of the women asked.

"My brother was a volunteer fireman. He stopped after that experience. It was the worst thing he'd ever seen.
The house was gone by the time they got there. The little girl was screaming when they found her. She was walking around in the cold and trying to wake her mother up. That poor woman didn't live very long. The burns were too awful."

"Do you know where she ended up?" Polly asked.

"There wasn't any family. Maybe friends took her."

"That doesn't make any sense," Lydia interjected. "Why wouldn't this nurse have given them the card and letter so Marian could have it later on?"

"Maybe they didn't tell her she was adopted," a woman said snidely. "Maybe they wanted her to think they were her family."

"But she was three. She would have remembered an explosion that big. How would she ever forget her first family?"

"I don't know. Don't you have enough information now? Can't we have lunch? It's ready," the woman said. "I have things to do this afternoon. If the rest of you want to help with this, go ahead, but some of us don't know anything about it and we don't care."

"You're right," Lydia said calmly. "We should eat. And besides, Reverend Boehm has just walked in to bless the meal." She looked up at the pastor who was standing in the back of the room and he simply raised his hands while the women bowed their heads.

"Thank you, dear Lord, for this gathering and for the food we are about to share. May it bless our bodies and may our fellowship bless our hearts and may our words bless your ears, O God. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen."

The woman who had led the meeting stood and said, "We will start with the left side of the room. Enjoy your meal
, ladies and thanks for coming! Merry Christmas!"

She turned to Polly, "I'm sorry. But
I think you have a small contingent who would like you to spend more time with them."

"Thank you," Polly
replied.

Lydia
said, "Bite your tongue, dear. Ignore the mean lady."

BOOK: Room at the Inn (Bellingwood #5.5)
12.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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